


Bollocks and Broomsticks

by ac1d6urn (Acid), Sinick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-14
Updated: 2010-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acid/pseuds/ac1d6urn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinick/pseuds/Sinick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can you do when gravitation is not an issue?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bollocks and Broomsticks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following Snarry-a-thon 2010 prompts: Snape's called on to referee a midnight naked quidditch session and FlyingWithoutABroom!Snape.

 

  


_Something has changed within me,  
Something is not the same;  
I'm through with playing by the rules  
Of someone else's game.  
Too late for second-guessing,  
Too late to go back to sleep;  
It's time to trust my instincts,  
Close my eyes and leap!_

  
_\- Wicked: Defying Gravity_

 

 

Harry's broom reclined at its ease by their bed, stretched out like a long-necked swan, in a nest of Harry's multicolored socks. Severus' side of the bedroom was piled with haphazard stacks of books: each tottery tower topped with a teacup or a stray phial. The diamond-paned windows of the high turret room were flung wide, letting in the night breeze, warm and heavy with the green summery scents of forest and meadow. Hunting owls swooped silently by, their feathery silhouettes black against the deep blue of the night. The sky was powdery with stars, and aglow with a round moon just past the full.

  


The breeze riffled Harry's hair like the teasing brush of a hand, beckoning him _out_ : out of the window, out into the night. But tonight Harry didn't reach for the broom; instead he reached for Severus, climbing on top of him.

Eyes flickered open, darker than the night outside the window, warm as the dark under their bedclothes. Long arms slid around Harry's waist, and Severus gave a soft hum: half appreciative 'mmm' for the feeling of two armsful of naked Harry, half inquisitive 'hmm?' All drowsy.

Harry smiled, breathing the shared air between them, adding warmth to the already warm, humid space. He straddled Severus like a broom and wiggled close, arms and legs on both sides of Severus, catching him in a human trap of limbs, bedsheets, and curious nuzzling.

  


 

"Awake?"

"Mmm..."

"Good," Harry grinned, "I need your skills."

"Skills..." Severus ran his hands over Harry's taut body as he pretended to think it over. "Which ones in particular? Brewing? Researching?" He smirked, "Quidditch refereeing?"

Harry stretched out full length on Severus, as if he was another bed. A rather lumpy one. Much lumpier in some places than others: really interesting places. "I'm thinking more horizontal skills."

  


"How about vertical?" Severus gave him an evil smile and lifted off, floating them both a foot above the bed. Harry "erk!"ed and held tighter, then when Severus was sure Harry had a lovely firm grip, he rose another couple of feet. The sheet - which was all they'd needed on such a warm night - slid away from Harry's back, leaving them both bare to the sultry air.

"I see what you mean," Harry laughed. "You're good at this. Better than any Firebolt!"

"Cheeky sod." Severus said fondly.

"So, how do I steer?" Harry slid a hand down between their bodies and found something suitable to hold onto. "Is this the joystick?"

"It's certainly giving me joy." Severus parried, just a touch breathlessly.

"Mm, me too," Harry started to undulate, rubbing his own length against Severus' shaft, enclosing them both in warm hands, enticingly ridged with broom calluses.

Severus arched an eyebrow and simulated the bumpy up and down motion of Harry's hand with his entire levitating body, just to be difficult. "Oh, by the way, watch out for the chandelier," he added casually, to a tinkle of disturbed crystal drops.

Harry ducked candles and crystals, and used the movement to press an impulsive kiss to Severus' smirk.

"Hmm," Severus mused, "maybe we should take this outside. If anyone's out this late, I can just Obliviate them."

Harry chuckled. "Window ho!" He stretched out along Severus as if he were a racing broom.

"I'm no ho!" Severus grinned, grabbing Harry by the arse and doing a Sloth Grip Roll.

Harry laughed, spinning on their wicked merry-go-round, the tips of his fringe brushing the bedsheets when he was hanging upside down and brushing the ceiling when he was up once more. He gripped Severus' shoulders, holding on tight against gravity and centrifugal force.

Severus turned the Sloth Grip Roll into a Wronski Feint, tango-dipping the brat. "While we're playing brooms," he grinned, "I thought I'd use that mop of yours to sweep the floor!"

The mop also came with sound effects. "Oi, not fair!" Harry laughed, thankful that he wasn't wearing glasses. He shook his head, shaking out imaginary dust bunnies. "Not my side of the floor! It's got crumpet crumbs, and sock lint, and I'd _never_ use my broom for sweeping!"

"Well whose fault are the crumbs and the lint?" Severus smirked and conceded, "Though I'm glad you've developed a respect for your aerial transport, however belated." He chuckled, and the tremors reverberated through the wiry length of his body into Harry's.

Harry tightened his grip, ground his hips downward, and enjoyed the Severusquake. When he had enough breath for speech he parried, "My other broom doesn't shake when accelerating. Maybe you need maintenance."

"Maintenance?" Severus' eyebrows lost themselves in his hairline. "And you're just the one to _service_ me?"

Harry laughed. "Who else? I'm riding you, aren't I?"

"I suppose you'll do." Severus' dark eyes glinted with avid anticipation. "The usual servicing procedure," he instructed around the tongue planted firmly in his cheek, "is to pour warmed oil along the shaft and rub the length with leather until it's slippery and ultra-responsive."

"Ohh, is that what it is?" Harry drawled, his hand moving to inspect Severus' shaft. "You know, you're already slippery, and you're responding to me pretty well." He paused and angled his hips down for a lovely slide, cock-to-cock. "I think leather would be a waste on you."

"Your own leather's doing fine," Severus panted, arching into the sensation of Harry's cock against his own.

"I'm always fine," Harry beamed. "Let's see how far we can soar."

"Under one condition."

"Mmm. What's that?"

"You show me your moves," Severus purred, "and I'll show you mine."

"You first." Harry chuckled and Severus could feel the vibration through their bodies, the warm breath on his skin.

"What kind of moves do you prefer?" Severus slid deft hands to knead the taut globes of Harry's arse, "Blagging, or holding someone else's broomtail, is cheating," he declared in teasingly deadpan tones, before he changed the grope to an appreciative pinch of firmly muscled flesh, "but Parkin's Pincer is legitimate."

"Oi, that's nothing like a Parkin's Pincer," Harry grinned, "S'better. I reckon you should call it Snape's Pincer." Harry demonstrated his own version of Potter's Pincer: a leisurely grope followed by a twisting pinch.

"I shan't call it anything if you keep stealing my moves," Severus murmured, not minding it in the least. "At least have the decency to steal something somewhat original."

"Yeah?" Harry gave a breathless pant of a laugh. "Well how d'you like this for a Wollongong Shimmy?" He ground down harder, writhing his hips from side to side, stoking the friction between them to searing new heights.

In return, Severus smirked and demonstrated his version of blurting, a cheat involving locking broom handles together, in this case it involved the warm grip of both hands around both cocks, and thorough, slow rubbing. "Since you're the _pro_ , can you tell what move this is?"

A grin lit up Harry's face as he tossed his head back, "A cheating one, you, ahh-" he started to say, but then his body took over from his brain and he ground enthusiastically against Severus' cock and hands.

"I didn't quite hear you."

"S'pose I should be thankful it's not cobbing."

Severus hmphed, sticking out his every sharp point, not just his elbows like a professional Quidditch cheater would've. Mind you, some of those points were a lot more enjoyable than elbows. "And what's wrong with cobbing? Cheats in quidditch are so much more fun than the allowed moves, don't you agree?"

"Dunno..." Harry drawled. "Traditional moves are fun too. M'quite fond of Starfish and Stick."

Severus pictured Harry dangling down from him by one arm and one leg like an acrobat, all wild hair and wild pose. "Just as long as you don't try to Starfish off my Stick," Severus chuckled. "Still, if you ask me, nothing beats a good old fashioned flacking."

"So do you want to flack me or fuck me? Make up your mind!"

"Is there a difference?" Severus asked slyly. "Sticking" - he slid his hand underneath Harry's arse - "any portion" - he wiggled his fingers - "of anatomy through the goal hoop sounds like a fair definition of a fuck to me."

"Mmm, fingers, plural, that's stooging. Proper flack - ah - fucking means only one - mmm - appendage at a time."

"As long as I get to choose which appendage." Severus closed his hand around Harry's cock, pumping it slowly.

"That's not flacking either," Harry gasped, "that's - ahh - snitchnip."

"Snitchwhat?" Severus smirked, turning his head to nip at Harry's thumb as it traced his jaw.

"Non-seeker touching snitch." Harry flexed his hips, pushing his cock through Severus' grip.

"And you'd know all about cheats like that, wouldn't you?"

"I know about it 'cause I always played Seeker," Harry beamed. "I'm allowed! It's your team who are incorrigible at cheating."

"My team?"

"Yeah, who else? Blatching'n'bumphing their way through every game."

Severus snorted. "Better that than bitching'n'bragging afterwards. And you're so very wrong, you know."

"Oi, what? You've seen 'em just as often as I have. Every game, same old Slytherin tricks."

"Yes, but they're not _my_ team. A Headmaster is impartial."

Harry snorted. "Riiight."

"A Headmaster is always impartial," Severus repeated with all seriousness. "The Slytherin team isn't what brings me to the matches. It's the referee. When it's you."

"Me?" Harry's lips curved into an irresistible grin, so Severus didn't resist the impulse to kiss it.

"Of course, you." Severus murmured into Harry's mouth, as he lifted his hand to run it through that untameable mop of hair. "You should know that by now." But if he hadn't known, that might explain the glares Harry had sent his way while refereeing. Severus had apparently done a good job of hiding the direction of his intent stare, absorbed with thoughts of the Quidditch instructor's taut arse planted firmly on a wood shaft of an entirely different kind.

Of course the rumours of Headmaster Snape showing his support for Slytherin kept the school's attention from other rumours. So Severus carefully massaged those rumours and encouraged them to grow. Just like other things.

In return, Harry did his own version of massaging, with a firm grip. "Ever heard of haversacking?" he asked Severus.

"Indulge me." Severus smiled.

"Hand on the quaffle," Harry demonstrated with a firm grip on Severus' cock, "as it goes through the hoop." Harry angled his hips, his head falling back as he guided Severus in, deeper and deeper. Severus gasped as his cock slid into heavenly, welcoming heat. He writhed in midair, his whole body arching, lost in thrusting up, Up, UP...

Eyes closed in bliss, Severus didn't even realise at first that he'd flown them right through the window and out into the night. It was the brush of the warm night breeze, fluttering his hair against his closed eyelids, that alerted him. Severus' eyes opened wide: he gaped at the starry sky and the filigree of towers and spires reaching toward it.

They drifted past the tallest towertop light as a bubble, rising into the dark dome of sky until it felt like they were falling upward into it, with the upturned shield of earth covering them, and with every thrust Severus lifted them further and further toward the stars. Harry rode astride him, writhing, catching his rhythm and matching it, until the warmth of the breeze and the darkness of sky didn't matter any more, all that mattered was Harry in Severus' arms and the slide of tight clenching heat. Nothing else was there but the two of them, alone among the stars, ringing to Harry's urgent cries of ohyesmoreYES! Higher and higher and now!

  


The stars burst in a white blaze of bliss and he heard Harry cry out out his release and it was then, with a shock of mingled climax and adrenalin rush, Severus realised that the dome of earth and sky had reversed and they were falling.

_Fuck!_

Heart pounding madly, he grabbed Harry in what might well be a deathgrip, clutching tight and not easing his hold until he stabilised their fall from the wildest Wronski Feint into an unsteady hover less than a foot above ground, and the force of Harry's body slamming against him just right wrung a last pulse from his deeply buried cock. Harry's elated cry turned into wild laughter gusting against Severus' skin as he collapsed against Severus' chest.

"BRILLIANT! Let's go again!"

"Mad sod," Severus murmured affectionately. "Not right now," he said with finality as he dropped them the last few inches into the wet grass. They landed in a tangle of limbs on the side of a hill as it sloped down toward the lake. Clover, wet with dew, was cool against Severus' heated skin. "Some of us are old enough to need time to recover."

"Oh bollocks!" Harry laughed, wrapped arms and legs tight around Severus and lunged, trying to roll them downhill together, toward the lake.

Severus let him. They rolled downward, tumbling over and over in a dizzying whirl, Harry chuckling all the way, but when the slope started to level off Severus dug in sharp elbows, bringing them to a stop just before they hit the water.

"Always wanted to do that!" Harry panted around his laughter.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and gave him a teasing grin, "What, the rolling, or...?"

"All of it!" the brat beamed. "We'll have to do that again!"

"On your own head be it."

"Yeah, and on my back and arse and everywhere else too! Look at all this mud! Lucky we haven't got a stitch on."

"Lucky I'm good at wandless disillusionment!" Severus huffed.

"Wandless?" Harry leered, "Not from where I'm sitting!"

Severus snorted. "Hush, brat."

They were lying just by the lake's edge. From the surface of the dark water rose several tentacles, curling and waving languidly, as if the squid was moonbathing.

Moonbathing seemed like a good idea. Severus stretched out on the dewy grass, lying with his head upslope and his feet toward the lake. If he pointed his toes he could just feel an occasional lap of the water; even that was almost warm in the summer heat. When Harry sprawled out half-atop him, head pillowed on the dubious cushion of a bony chest, Severus flicked his foot, spraying Harry with lake water.

"Oi," Harry exclaimed, twisting around and brushing the droplets off his arse the way he never did after his shower. Severus hmphed lazy amusement and slid his arms around Harry by way of mute apology for the teasing.

"You were the one who was complaining about how muddy you were; I was just washing you off."

"Then let's do it properly!" Again, Harry grabbed and lunged; this time he succeeded in rolling them that last little distance into the water.

Severus gave a whoop of shock; in this quantity the water was no longer warm. Harry chuckled. Severus slapped the surface of the water, spraying Harry. With the catalyst of Harry introduced into the mixture, it didn't take long for things to rapidly deteriorate into a laughter-soaked, splashing waterfight, the air white with flying spray, flashes of Harry's smile and lively eyes brighter still in the night. Splashing quickly turned to wrestling, and laughter choked off abruptly into silence, punctuated by the wet slide of openmouthed kisses, as they sank to their knees, then stretched out, this time half in the water, the lap of the lake's waves matching their own surging movements.

  


Severus was just starting to really put his back into it, when the swift, nipping kisses he was laying along Harry's neck were echoed suddenly by tiny, sucking kisses peppering his arse and thighs, several of them all at once. It wasn't the sensation - rather delightful in a slipperywet fashion - that made him yelp with protest, it was the fact that since they weren't in a sixty-nine, whatever was kissing him down there certainly wasn't Harry. Severus kicked out with both legs, whipped his head around and shouted over his shoulder in the general direction of the lake, "SOD OFF!"

"What?" Harry craned up abruptly to look, nearly smacking Severus in the nose with his forehead, and then he immediately tried to sprawl over Severus, covering him up with his shorter form. The position seemed rather more undignified than protective. "What was it?"

"Bloody squid," Severus grumbled, "I told it it'd be calamari if it interfered with me again."

"Again?" Harry boggled, fascinated, "When did it 'interfere with you' the first time?"

Severus blushed. "In my day, Slytherins had a penchant for skinnydipping." A reminiscent pause. "It certainly made for interesting viewing from the common room's underlake windows."

Harry waggled his eyebrows cheekily. "So, you and The Squid, eh? Should I be jealous?" he grinned.

"No, but the pervert had the habit of blocking my view out the window."

" _Your_ view?" Harry chortled, "And you call the Squid a pervert?"

Severus replied only with a repressive harrumph.

Idly he rubbed a bit of mud off Harry's shoulder. Severus thought to himself that, as baths went, the lake wasn't terribly efficient. Severus was a civilized wizard and therefore, he told himself, he strongly preferred proper baths to lakes crawling with cheeky cephalopods. Baths were warmer, and less muddy (unless Harry jumped in after one of his Quidditch games), and contained soap suds and oils instead of sand and rocks. Oils chafed much less when applied to the important bits. And of course a proper bath wouldn't have anything as mischievous as a shoal of tiny fish, dragonfly-thin and just as small, inspecting the human invaders with Harry-like impertinence.

All in all, Severus rather feared the mood had been broken for good, or at least for tonight. But he really should have had more faith in Harry, or at least in Harry's libido. The irrepressible brat simply leered, "So, what'd it do to you to make you jump like that?"

Severus squirmed against curious fingers, which were soon joined by a questing mouth. "Nothing that impudent."

"Really?" Harry beamed. "So was it this impudent then? Or _this_? Or what about..."

Severus shut him up the best way possible, by snogging him senseless. This time, the sea-swell surge of their movements went undisturbed by tentacles in tender places.

  


Later, when calm had returned both to the lovers and the lake, they were stretched out once more at the water's edge, as clean as shared skinny dipping could make them.

"Just so you know, I'm a Quidditch coach, not a swimming coach!" Harry grinned against Severus' shoulder.

"Well, Coach Potter," Severus arched an eyebrow, regarding him with the affectionate amusement he held back during staff meetings. "Since we're talking shop, as Headmaster I am relieving you from coaching duties until next term."

"Oh," Harry said. "Thanks!" He squirmed until he was sprawling comfortably over Severus, his chin nestled right against Severus' shoulder. "Um, who's going to relieve you?"

"You are, of course," Severus smirked. "In fact you've already done so."

"More than once!" Harry beamed proudly. With a shared, sated sigh, they fell silent.

Above them, owls and bats swooped silently, heading for the forest. The Quidditch pitch was still, and the peacefulness of the grounds seemed deepened rather than disturbed by the soft lapping of the lake, the pipings of tiny frogs, the barely-heard sounds of insects. Soon he'd Apparate them both back to bed, but for now Severus lay back and luxuriated in the afterglow. It was times like these, in the summer - without the daily routine of work, without the hundreds of students in the castle - when Severus most enjoyed living here.

His castle. From the tallest tower to the deepest dungeon. Hogwarts.

Severus smiled, basking in a joy even closer, far greater.

Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> **A Quickie Quidditch Glossary**
> 
> **Sloth Grip Roll:** Rolling upside down to hang under the broom.  
>  **Wronski Feint:** Seeker dives toward the ground as if he sees the Snitch, only to draw the opposing Seeker into a similar dive and drive him into the ground.  
>  **Parkin's Pincer:** Three Chasers fly from three different directions to converge on an opposing Chaser.  
>  **Wollongong Shimmy:** High-speed zigzagging maneuver performed to throw off Chasers.  
>  **Starfish and Stick:** Keeper hangs by one hand and one foot from his or her broom, extending the other hand and foot as far out as possible.
> 
> **Illegal Moves**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Blagging:** Grabbing the tail of another player's broom.  
>  **Cobbing:** Excessive use of elbows.  
>  **Flacking:** Keeper pushing any part of his or her body through a goal hoop.  
>  **Stooging:** Two Chasers ramming the opposing Keeper aside so the third Chaser can score.  
>  **Snitchnip:** Any player other than a Seeker touching the Snitch.  
>  **Blatching:** Flying to intentionally collide with another player.  
>  **Bumphing:** Intentionally hitting a Bludger toward the crowd, to halt the game.  
>  **Haversacking:** Chaser's hand still on the Quaffle as it goes through the hoop.


End file.
